


A Kiss is Just a Kiss is Just a Kiss--The Experiences of Sophie Job

by crayonbreakygal



Category: Leverage
Genre: First Kiss, Kissing, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 20:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15057041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayonbreakygal/pseuds/crayonbreakygal
Summary: Sophie's experience with kissing throughout her lifetime.





	1. The Early Years

**Author's Note:**

> There are so many fics out there that describe what it's like to kiss. This is not one of them. I can't do this justice like some authors can. What I can do is show a timeline! What are Sophie's experiences? Who did she kiss or not?

A Kiss is Just a Kiss is Just a Kiss--The Experiences of Sophie Job

 

Chapter One—The Early Years

Sophie often asked herself why she’d kissed so many people. Was it to find perfection?  Was it to find a mate?  Curiosity?  Bored?  Possibly all of the above?

Her first kiss wasn’t very memorable at all. She was all of twelve, running from the bullies at school who always made her day difficult to say the least.  Her bestie, which happened to be a boy, had followed her into the field, not turning where he usually turned to go home.  They’d lost the bully crew around the side of a building not far back. She just hoped the crew didn’t spot them in an open field, but luckily the grass was kind of high where they were standing.

Her bestie, Malcolm, was shorter than she was. He’d become her bestie if just for the fact of wanting her protection.  That was in second grade.  Sophie was taller than most everyone else and did not take any kind of crap from anyone. That sometimes made her a target, but often made her a bit of superhero in the eyes of the downtrodden, the masses, or what she’d call the super serious kids who didn’t have a violent bone in their bodies.  Sophie hated being violent also, but just by having siblings, she knew how to throw a punch if need be.  So Malcolm stuck to her like glue at first.  Then she realized that he was funny and very, very smart.  Manipulating him was quite easy too, but she usually held off unless it was absolutely necessary. And she always did it in a loving way.

He yelled for her to wait up, startling her out of her skipping along the path back to her house, the house in which she hated with a passion. Too small, too cramped, too old, too filled with memories of a lost childhood.

She and Malcolm chatted for a few moments, then out of the blue, he reached for her and pulled her head down, smacking their foreheads together and landed a whopper, which in her eyes was not a grand idea.  Their teeth clanked together, jarring her head a little.  He sucked on her lips until she pushed him back just enough to gather her wits about her. Explaining to him that she did not like him in that way, he slowly turned back along the path, waving slightly as he went around the corner at the gate.  The next morning, he arrived at school with a fresh bruise, having encountered the bully crew right after that awful kiss.  He ignored her for the rest of the school year, prompting her to realize she needed new friends.  It was awful, unnecessary and not consensual at all.  Boys.

There were plenty of kisses after that, but none were really real, as to say none really meant anything.  Quick touches of the lips and maybe a grope or two. She couldn’t remember because she often had to use a knee or a push to stop any more forward progress. They quickly got the idea that more than a quick kiss was not in the cards for any suitor.  Until Charlie.

Charlie was a few years older than her fifteen some odd years. He was quite dreamy with dark blonde wavy hair, big blue eyes, and a strut that always caught all the girls’ eyes and many adult ladies. He knew he was hot and let everyone else know that.  Her first ladies’ man. It wouldn’t be her last.

He had flirted with her over several weeks, giving her shy glances, grinning her way as she walked past.  Later, when she had more exposure to this kind of person, she realized that he was leering, sizing her up for conquest. Sophie had matured over the last summer, legs now long and a chest that filled out the blouses she wore.  No more stuffing bras or wearing a push up to achieve cleavage.  She’d button her blouse up to her neck, then unbutton it once she was out of sight of the house. What her mother did not know wouldn’t hurt her. The skirt often was rolled up too. It all would come down right before she entered school grounds though. Getting a rap on the knuckles was never any fun. The walk to school was her way of showing that she had arrived, finally.  Her friends flitted around her, some developed, some not.

Charlie finally made his move one day after school, giving her a come here look. They chatted for a while, sharing a soda from a vending machine.  Taking her by the hand, he led her behind the local grocery and into the woods beyond.  It was a place that many couples would go to make out after school, so Sophie knew the area well.  Not that she went there often, only a few times.  She liked everyone else to know that she was knowledgeable though, just in case.  Experienced, but not a slut as one of her girlfriends had explained one day.

Charlie maneuvered her around a large tree, backing her up until she felt the bark at her back. She just hoped that it didn’t stain her white school shirt. 

The kiss was very expected but not all that great. She attempted to angle his face differently, but he wouldn’t budge. He thought he had to kiss her hard and rough, instead of relaxing into it. Once he tried to thrust his tongue down her throat, she was done.  He was disappointed to say the least, telling her that she was getting a reputation as being fast. She didn’t take it as a threat, but she should have because the very next morning, attitudes changed toward her.  Sure, her closest friends were still there, but the guys had other ideas.  Her carefully maintained reputation was now in tatters.  A few weeks later, when Charlie tried the very same thing with another girl, Sophie started her own rumor about him, making the rest of the girls wary of him in general.  He should know better than to try to play the game better than she did.

Once she was gone from home, at such an early age, she perfected her kissing skills even more.  Reel them in, take them down.  She only kissed the ones that intrigued her, knowing that just by looking into their eyes, stroking their arms, breathing on their necks, she wouldn’t have to subject herself to their awful attempts. She wanted their money, their paintings, their jewelry, not their bodies.  Most certainly there were ones that she let touch here and there, but nothing ever serious.  Better to not be a good memory so they wouldn’t come looking for her later.


	2. First Loves

Chapter Two--First Loves

William was a playboy, threw money around like it meant nothing. He was the perfect mark, the way into a society that she had only been able to achieve the fringes, until he came along. It was the long con, a way to establish a persona that she could use repeatedly while casing a place for valuables. She could use this alias for years before having to change it if she was careful.

Only she hadn’t anticipated falling in love with the mark. William was so charming, Sophie was so vulnerable.  He was a rake. There was no mistaking that.  A loveable rake, but one nonetheless.  His aunt had even warned her one night while at a party.  Sophie did not listen.  He was a dream.  Falling in love should never happen on the job, except since she’d never been in love before, she knew nothing of how it felt.

He kissed like a dream. All her techniques, things she’d learned on the road while conning some of the richest men and sometimes women in the world did not compare to him.  He almost brought her to her knees with that first kiss. That should have sent warning bells off in her head to abort her mission. She was drawn in quickly and she stayed too long, believing that he might actually love her in return.

Only he loved the concept of her. Her perfect title (which she had fabricated), her perfect body, her perfect accent (polished after so many years of practice), all drew him in. Until he tired of her. Until the drinking took over once again. Why had anyone not told her what she was getting into? Was she that focused on making the perfect life for herself that she missed all the signs?  William didn’t want perfect. He wanted the bad girl, the ones that didn’t follow the rules. He wanted Sophie, not Charlotte. She was the good girl on the outside. She played the part too well. It all came crashing down one night, right after the most sensuous kiss she’d ever experienced. A mere hour later, she spotted William, planting another sensuous kiss on one of the maids, hands down her pants as he ground up against her in the hallway.

She was gone by morning, packing at lightning speed. She was used to doing this to get away from either the local law enforcement or whoever she’d conned. It was like riding a bicycle. Once you learned, you never forgot how to leave a scene quickly.

Then Stark happened. She knew Stark, had worked with him a time or two when she was young. He was always a bit too smarmy for her, bad boy image worn on his sleeve instead of hidden like it was with William. She needed a bad boy after what she’d lived the past couple of years. And did he fulfill that promise.  Only once they got to the part where they were going to be intimate, he pulled up, stopped almost like he cared about her.  Sophie laughed in his face, telling him to get on with it. That snapped him out of his trance. Sure, it was good. He knew the right pressure, the right angle, the right amount of tongue. It was all so practiced though, like he was following a script instead of just feeling it. She tired of him very quickly, which soured her working relationship with him right after. 

Working alone gave her the opportunity to not get too close to any of her marks.  Get in, get out with whatever she could steal, con or even at times, hand to her directly just because of who she was at the time satisfied her.  Of course, her life was far from satisfactory in many areas, one of which was companionship.  She rarely indulged in any kind of intimacy. After William, after Stark, it was just way too hard and unfulfilling.  Pretty boys only lasted so long.

Fantasy, on the other hand, worked wonders.  There were plenty of men out there that she fantasized about on a frequent basis.  The store clerk with the bulging muscles (with a lovely girlfriend she found out later about), the accountant with the large bank account (who was gay, but so sweet), the businessman in one of the buildings in which she lived (banker who had access to a lot of money but had a stick up his arse the size of Paris), and the insurance investigator who chased her all over the world attempting to stop her thievery.  It was that last one that fueled many a fantasy.


	3. Nate Ford

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter certainly is long.

Chapter Three--Nate Ford

He was good at his job, she’d give that to him.  That first encounter, when he’d almost caught her, made her shiver in more ways than one.  Of course, she’d never get too close to him. He might slap a pair of cuffs on her.  All those others, at least she’d gotten close to them, a hand here, a kiss on the cheek there.  She didn’t want Nathan Ford on the same continent as she was, much less the same room, which he managed to achieve with frequent alarm. 

He didn’t have bulging muscles (she looked one day when he had his shirt off).  He probably didn’t have a large bank account because she was sure IYS wasn’t paying him a ton to catch thieves.  He wasn’t a typical businessman, but wore a suit and tie almost every day, even if he never wore the tie the way he should. Plus, he carried a gun on occasion, which she found out about in an unfortunate way late one night while stealing several pieces of art right out from under a mark’s nose. Dammit, that still made her quite angry that he managed to find out about her little scheme. 

What he did have was a keen sense of the absurd, knew her probably as well as she knew herself (or whatever alias she was using at the time), was smarter than most men, hell most humans, on the planet.  He held himself like he was god’s gift to insurance investigating, often solving cases that no other person could do with just a few hours of thinking. Under all that exterior polish (which was very tarnished if she did say so herself), was a bad boy waiting to get out.  The way he gathered information, schemed to get back priceless artifacts or paintings, wasn’t always above board.  He seemed to skirt the law just enough where he didn’t step over the line or the authorities looked the other way once they were convinced he retrieved what he was looking for and would leave the area immediately. And they wouldn’t have to deal with the mess. He was definitely very tidy when it came to cleaning up those kinds of messes.

So he wasn’t an Adonis, but was certainly fit and trim. If he actually tried, he would fill out any Italian suit just perfectly. His off the rack suits sometimes hung a bit loose, but that was probably from lack of eating in a timely manner.  She’d taken to sending him food on occasion while he was chasing her just so he would eat. She would often watch from afar his hands gesturing around a crime scene, watch as his eyes lit up from some revelation, smirky grin evident on his face.  He never really smiled deeply. She loved to wipe that damn smirk off his face.

It was his eyes that drew her in, made her pause one night as she watched him from across the dance floor.  She wasn’t even doing a job, just there so that her face was shown. She had no idea why he was in town, only that he spotted her across the room, through a crowded dance floor filled with people. 

“Sophie Devereaux. What are you here to steal?”

“Nathan Ford.  What are you here to protect?”

“A question answered with a question.”

“Nate, I thought that was your way of saying hello.”

“Pretty much.”

Then he turned that smirky grin to a real smile, his face lighting up, his eyes sparkling in the glittering ballroom lights.  Damn, he was good. He even smelled good this time. His hair was somewhat short, but curling on the ends. She longed to run her hands through his hair, just to tug a little to get his attention. 

“Dance? Would you like to dance?”

Had he just asked her to dance? And they did just that.  After this encounter, as they swayed to the music, she realized something.  Whether he was a bad boy or a good man, she was very attracted to him, which was not a good idea. He had the power to bring her down and had tried on several occasions to do just that.  He was dangerous in more ways than one. She couldn’t let him get the upper hand.

On more than one occasion though, he did get the upper hand. Lucky for her, he was only interested in getting the stolen items back to their owners.  It was almost like he was letting her go, if she gave up the goods.  He would never admit that though.

Then he asked for her help. Now he was playing with fire.  Asking her for help? Was he that desperate?  Once she understood why, she decided to see where he was going with it.  It didn’t take him long to plan a scheme to capture who the real culprit was, with her help.  They worked well as a team.  And he paid her. It wasn’t much, but he did pay her.

He would disappear for months at a time, then would come asking for information or help as needed.  She was very careful to not let anyone else know she was performing this task or her days of grifting would be over.  She’d stay out of his way and he usually stayed out of hers.

Contacting her through the usual channels, she met him in a dark bar one night as requested. He was slamming back shots without abandon. It brought her back to the way her father was when she was young. 

“Been here all night?” she announced as she slid into the seat beside him.

“A few hours,” he got out before rubbing his face with his hand.

“What’s the job?”

It took him a few moments to answer, but he seemed to sober up a little once he started with his tale.

“So, you think they sold the artwork when?”

“As far as I can tell, two weeks before they reported them stolen.”

“I see.”

“Can you help?”

“Of course, darling.”

She watched as he flinched a little when she said darling, but filed it away for later. Something was definitely bothering him, if just by the way he looked and the way he was dressed. The hair was longer and curling all around, the suit looked to be quite disheveled.  Even his shoes were in horrible shape. At least on other jobs, he was a bit more put together.  Now he looked a wreck.

“Maybe you should get some rest while I check on some things.”

He just grunted back instead of verbally sparring with her like he always did.  His verbal sparring was almost like foreplay sometimes. It was something she could always count on.  Now he wasn’t playing.

“How long?”

The question threw her off.

“How long will it take you to prepare?”

“Not long. A day or two at most. Go get some sleep, Nate. You look exhausted.”

“I am. Oh god, I am,” he sighed out.

His eyes were dull, hollowed out, his face with a pasty sheen of someone who was overworked and operating on empty.

“You know where I’m staying?”

“Of course,” she started, leaving the darling out this time. “I’ll stop by tomorrow. Now go. Shoo before you fall over.”

She found him late the next day passed out on his bed, in the same clothes he was in when she met with him in the bar.  There were files scattered on the desk, along with a few empty bottles of alcohol.

Tapping his leg, she tried to get his attention, but couldn’t.

“Nate. Wake up.”

It took three tries before he even acknowledged her existence and twenty more minutes before he got off the bed and staggered into the bathroom. As the shower ran, Sophie snuck into the bathroom and took the clothes that he peeled off and shoved them into a laundry bag to be cleaned.  Going through his clothes, she found the most acceptable combination and waited for him to emerge.

Twenty minutes later and probably no more hot water, Nate opened the door to the bathroom, towel slung low across his hips, looking like he was not wearing anything else. The bathrobe lay across a chair on the opposite side of the room. She hadn’t thought about actually placing a change of clothes inside the bathroom for him to access. That would be too easy.

“My clothes?”

“Oh? The ones you slept in? Out in the laundry service.”

“I can’t afford to do that.”

“My treat.”

He was still as lithe as ever, but on the skinnier side if she did say so.  She always did like the way he was built. Too many muscles were a waste.  He most definitely was not the pretty boys in which she hung out with on many occasions.  Broad shoulders, slim hips, nice legs, very perturbed look on his face, hair curling every which way with droplets of moisture clinging to the ends. He needed a shave, but she sort of liked the scruff that was forming from not shaving for a few days.  His eyes weren’t as dull as they were in the bar, but that was probably from his lack of sleep.  She’d get some food into him and he’d be right as rain.

“I also ordered room service.”  Nate threw his arms up in defeat. “We need to plan, so I thought it would be nice to actually eat a decent meal.”

“This is not going to look good on my expense report.”

“You’ve managed to get back millions worth of stolen art and priceless objects. Why should you care about a few dollars here and there spent on surviving?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

She watched as he placed his hands on his hips, the towel almost falling to the floor as he did.  He’d forgotten that he was entirely nude beneath that white towel.

“I need to get dressed.”

Sophie got up and pointed to her ensemble she had gathered for him.

“You went through my luggage?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Getting the information they needed took no time at all.  By the end of the week, Nate had what he needed to have the guy arrested for insurance fraud and Sophie had her meager payment.  She never did it for the money.  She hoped that Nate realized that.  She liked his company on occasion. Although right at that moment, she was wondering why she did. 

He sat at the bar yet again, glass in hand, downing shots quicker than she’d seen him do in the past.

“When do you leave?”

“Leave?  Tomorrow. Cheapest flight.”

“My, aren’t you chatty tonight? I thought you would be thrilled to save IYS yet another million?”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

He waved his hand as if to dismiss her, but she saw the small glance her way.  It was almost like he was pushing her away from him on purpose.  They sometimes did celebrate when a con went right, which was always when they worked together.  Tonight, it seemed like he didn’t want her company, but couldn’t make up his mind why.

“I should go,” Sophie finally announced.

“No. Wait. I’m just, I’m not good company. I know it.  Let me at least walk you to your hotel.”

Always the gentleman, even when attempting to arrest you. There was a time or two when he was less than one, but now was not that time. 

As they slowly walked back to her hotel, she could tell Nate wanted to talk to her, but didn’t know how. How could a man like him go through life not knowing how to talk to a woman?  He was intelligent, good looking, charming when he wanted to be.  Was it just her or was he that inept at expressing his feelings?

So Sophie decided to take matters into her own hands.  They were friends now, or frenemies if that term applied.  Friends when they needed to be, enemies when he was chasing and she was running.

“Nate, if you need to talk.”

“No, we, you see. There’s nothing to talk about.”

Nate sighed as he shuffled his feet, slowing down even more.

“I do know that something is wrong. I’m a good listener.”

“You’re good at everything, Sophie.  Good at conning, good at stealing, good at accents, good at acting your ass off for a grift.  You were just so damn good this time.  Why is that? Why can’t I be like you?  Just let it all slide, play the part? Like it doesn’t matter?”

Is that what he thought of her? That she was some unfeeling beast?

“Do you think it’s so easy, Nate?  To not know who you can trust?  I thought I could trust you.  Maybe I was mistaken.”

With that Sophie sped up her feet, maybe to lose him, give him a hint that he hurt her feelings by saying she didn’t matter.

“Wait, Sophie.”

He caught up with her a block before her hotel. It had gotten late, a light mist starting to fall from the sky. Her hair curled, coming out of the bun she had worked that very morning.  Her coat wasn’t thick enough to combat the cold that was forming, nor was it waterproof.  The hand on her wet arm stopped her forward progress.  She almost jerked it out of his reach, but decided she would love to hear what he had to say, just so she could blast it back in his face and see his reaction.

Only when she turned, she saw the anguish on his face, the way his eyes looked as if he was ready to cry. Nate Ford cry?  He was solid, never let his emotions get the best of him.

“Listen. I’m sorry.  It’s just rough right now and I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“I’m listening.”

“Everything, it’s bad right now.”

“Whatever it is Nate, you can beat it. You can fight it. I’ve seen you get out of worse situations before.”

“My son. He’s sick.  My wife, she doesn’t understand. I have to have this job.  The benefits. Health insurance. I’m just not home enough.  They’re cutting back, on everything.  Hell, I can’t even make my mortgage payments anymore.  I’m in debt up to my eyeballs. I just can’t keep my head above water much longer.”

He poured out his soul to her on that misty night. She bet that he hadn’t told anyone else what he was feeling, even his wife.  He had to be the strong one, the one who carried the heavy burden of trying to find a solution to the problem. 

“Nate, you have to talk to your wife,” was her conclusion after their talk.

“She, I can’t.  She decided that it would be best for her. She decided that she needed to concentrate on Sam.  Can’t say I blame her.”

“But you’re hurting too.”

“It doesn’t matter. She needs time.”

Which in Sophie’s book meant that not only was his son in danger of dying, his wife had left him.

“I’m sorry, Nate.”

“My whole life is crumbling before my eyes.”

Taking his hand in hers, she squeezed it, turning so that he would follow her.

“Come. It’s raining and cold.  It wouldn’t be good if you now came down with something horrid in addition to what’s going on.”

He followed her like a lost puppy, hands linked as they entered Sophie’s hotel.  The sound of jazz floated through the air as they entered the lobby. 

“Come on. One more drink to warm you up.”

Nate had seemed to sober up on their walk.  It’s not that Sophie wanted him drunk. She didn’t know what he wanted. Pulling him into the bar off the lobby, she found two seats and ordered more drinks for them. She watched as he closed his eyes, taking in the music. He didn’t even open them once the drinks were placed on the table. He just grabbed the glass and downed the drink in one go.  Only when the song was over did he open his eyes again, looking over at her as he did.

Why did she have to fall for him? Was it his intelligence, the way he worked a problem until it was solved?  He looked so lost at the moment. Was she there to somehow show him the way?  Oh, she hoped not.  That was not what she did in life.  She barely knew her way in the world.  As the trio started another song, he smiled back at her, not one of those smirks but a real smile.  It looked sad to her though.  It was his sad smile that almost broke her heart. 

Taking his hand in hers again, she pointed to the dance floor. A few couples were swaying to the beat of the slow tempo, so it shouldn’t be hard for him to follow.

She’d forgotten they were both still damp from the outside, but luckily most of it had either dried or hadn’t soaked through their coats. Sophie could smell the dampness still apparent in his hair. She ached to touch it, run her hands through it, if just to give him comfort.

“I have to go back tomorrow,” he whispered in her ear. “I have no idea what to do.”

“Just be there for your son.”

Nate smelled of rain and whiskey, of aftershave and tobacco smoke that the mark had smoked in their presence earlier that day.  They were breathing the same air, lips so close but not touching.  His lips were a bit cracked, probably from not taking care of himself. His face was unshaven since the day before. She wondered what it would feel like if she just took the initiative and kissed him like she always wanted to. 

“I can’t,” he whispered to her.

“I know.”

They stood like that for what seemed like eons, swaying to a beat that only the two of them could hear.  It was the best damn kiss that she never got if what his eyes told her.  If all those barriers had not been in place, it would have been monumental. Her knees would have shaken with the force of it.

Until the next time. When her knees shook, when he was finally ready to take that next step, when all the barriers he had were gone. Only her barriers had come on full force.  Almost five years later, after Sam had died, after his divorce, after his two years of drinking himself almost into oblivion, after Leverage had been formed, dismantled, and reformed once again in Boston.  Only she had been reformed, dismantled and reformed wrong. She had to get out of there, figure out why she was having a crisis. She knew that Nate was at the center of it, knew that if she didn’t get out of Boston, she would never be able to resurface once again. 

He understood. He didn’t like it and let his opinion be known.  His lips had hovered over hers once again, only she couldn’t.  She wasn’t that Sophie anymore, the one who had almost kissed him five years prior.  She needed to find a new Sophie before she could commit to what he might want.  The look of sorrow on his face when she pulled back twisted her gut, but she knew that if she took that last step, she would never figure out what was wrong with her.  Then she walked away, intending to come back once she found herself.

Months went by, arguments, sobriety ended, Nate spun off the rails once again. 

That kiss, the one that should have happened so long ago, did bring him to his knees. It was almost a thing for her too.  But she had to leave, get out of Sterling’s clutches and leave Nate on the ground, bleeding from a gunshot wound. 

She could feel the desperation well up into her soul as he looked at her, sacrificing himself so that she and the rest of the team could make their getaway without repercussions.  Nate was attempting to memorize her features, like he knew he’d be away from her for a very, very long time.  Just like that first time, back in Los Angeles, when they all had split and gone their various ways, his eyes told her more than anything else it would be a very long time indeed.

She wasn’t having any of it though.  Plan after plan formulated in her mind as he got closer, as he pulled her in with his gaze, one hand already handcuffed to the railing on the ship.  Leaning into her, as his lips touched hers, it ignited a fire that she was certain she could never put out.  If he’d done this that first year like she wanted, it most certainly would have fizzled out.  Or they would have exploded, leaving pieces of themselves that no one could recover.  Now she was somewhat whole and still working on herself and he was in sacrificial lamb mode as she liked to call it.  No time like the present to show each other how much they cared. 

It wasn’t practiced, with moves learned from years of performance.  It wasn’t a gnashing of teeth and tongue, which she often got from someone too desperate to learn what she liked.  It was heaven, just like she thought it would be, even with the audience of the feds and Sterling.  She wanted to drink him in, and not let him go.  Only Sterling was on a timetable, Nate was possibly going to bleed to death if something wasn’t done, and her other three teammates had no idea that their mastermind had gotten shot.  Well, Eliot probably did, distinctive stance and all that. She couldn’t jeopardize their well-being just because Nate finally decided that he’d waited long enough, blood be damned. 

His lips and tongue fueled many a fantasy while he was in the hospital and that blasted prison. 


	4. Eliot Spencer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is definitely not linear.

Chapter Four--Eliot Spencer

She’d kissed many a man and a few women in her life. That’s just the way a grifter’s life was.  It was almost never serious, but it did make her curious at what kind of life the other person led.  The way a person kissed often told her much about someone’s station in life.  The richly appointed man in a suit would often not know what on earth to do with a lady while the guy in a beat-up leather jacket and well-worn boots knew exactly how to make her swoon. 

Eliot made her swoon.  Dammit, Eliot, she thought.  Why did he make her swoon? Was it possibly the fact that she was quite ticked off by their mastermind?  He’d made an ass of himself, telling Eliot to go skip rocks or something like that.  American euphemisms sometimes made her head spin.  The whisky she downed in copious amounts also made her head spin, which she would pay for the next morning.

“He’s an utter bastard.”

“You should know, sweetheart. You’ve known him the longest.”

“Do you know he once shot me? Me?!  The bloody wanker.  Ruined a nice coat too.  I really liked that coat.”

Eliot frowned at her, like she said something ridiculous.

“Coat? That’s all you thought about?  You got him back though, right?”

Sophie could smell the whisky on his breath, the leather across his shoulders, his aftershave on his neck. He smelled delicious.  Good enough to eat.  Or maybe that was the alcohol talking.

“Bloody right.  I shot him back.  He was quite surprised that I didn’t miss.”

Eliot’s eyes opened wide, like he was surprised that Sophie had the gumption to fire a weapon.

“Remind me to never piss you off.”

“Damn straight.  A girl trying to make a living. He deserved what he got.”

“Listen. He’s a bastard. Let’s just forget about him, just for tonight.”

After a few more drinks at the bar, Eliot urged her off her stool, taking her arm to head to the elevator. As he pushed her inside and punched their floor number, she could see that there was something on his mind.

“You guys aren’t, well, you know, seeing each other, are you?”

“What did you say?”

Was he asking Sophie if she and Nate were a thing?

“I mean, the way you two fight. It’s just weird and kinda like there’s something. The way he looks at you when you’re not looking.”

“No. No.  Never going to happen.  He just, well, he… I have no idea. What was I saying?”

“Nate?  Relationship? Whatever,” Eliot answered back, swaying in the corner of the elevator.

“Relationship? He can’t even acknowledge my existence.”

“Oh, he acknowledges your existence.  And you call yourself a grifter?”

Eliot snorted as the elevator stopped at their floor.  Hardison had gotten them several suites on one of the upper floors of the hotel, with enough room for them to spread out, but close enough to plan the con as needed. Now Sophie wished he had put them all on different floors. Her room was directly beside Nate’s, with Eliot on the other side of hers.  They both knew when she came and went.

“I don’t exist, Eliot,” Sophie slurred out, trying to fit the key card into the slot on her door.

“Looks like you exist to me.  Come on, just give it a bit.  Hey, tell you what?  I rough him up a little…”

While the idea intrigued her, she shook her head no as she looked at Eliot’s bicep.

“Come on. A drink for the road.”

Eliot shook his head at her, knowing she made no sense.  Even she knew she made no sense.

“You’ve had enough.”

Instead of drifting into her room and falling on her bed face forward to pass out, she instead decided that now she wanted to play with Eliot.  She hadn’t had any kind of companionship for a while now, the last person kissing her in Chicago while they were rehearsing that damn play. It had been awful, so she was wanting something to wash away that memory.

“Maybe I want something a bit stronger,” she said as she came forward into the doorway.

Was she doing it to make Nate jealous? Would he hear or was he three sheets to the wind, snoring into his pillow at this time of the night?

Eliot’s kiss was tentative at first, even a bit sweet, like he didn’t know what he was doing. It was all an act.  As her hand went up his shoulder and dug into the back of his skull, hair fisted in her fingers, his participation started to equal hers in intensity. 

Damn he was good. Attentive but not too forward, no tongue yet because he was a gentleman. Practiced but not to the point where he thought he knew it all.  But the emotion wasn’t there.  He didn’t care for her in that way. It was nice, but not for her.  She sobered up quick after pulling away from him.

“Goodnight, Soph.  Hydrate. Remember.”

The kiss was never mentioned again, but Sophie was quite certain they’d had an audience, although it was never mentioned by anyone on the team.


	5. Parker

Chapter Five--Parker

“Uh, Soph.  They want us to kiss?”

“No, no.  Sophie, do not, under any circumstances give him what he wants.  This is going to end very badly.”

Sophie tuned Nate’s voice out in her ear. He sometimes talked her into things she would have never done another lifetime ago.  Now was not that time.  If giving the mark what he wanted, then why was that a problem?  No one was going to be hurt. Besides, it might be fun.

Nate was the prude. Sophie was not.  Many of her personas had same sex partners, but it had been quite a while since that had happened.  Jenny mostly loved to party with females while Yvette swung both ways.  Sophie was usually straight, but wandered off the path a few times when the mood presented itself.  None of this she’d ever tell Nate. He might not take it well.

“Nate, get that stick out of your ass,” Eliot reminded him.

They all knew what proclivities that their mark sometimes professed.  He delved into all sorts of strange things over the years. Two girls kissing was fairly tame for him.  If Sophie was being honest, it was very tame in her book too.  She had no idea how Parker felt though.

“Eliot,” Nate growled back.

“Uh oh. She’s calling an audible,” Hardison quipped back.

Sophie was famous for calling audibles, cons on the fly, or whatever one wanted to call them.  It mostly made Nate furious because his plans were in his head, not on paper.  She usually could figure out his scenarios, but sometimes she had to wing it to save the whole damn thing.  It always made Nate start to growl into the comms, with the possibility of an argument after all was said and done.

“Let’s do this,” Parker agreed, diving in before Sophie had time to set the stage as it were.

Her lips were soft. It was always hard to tell if someone’s lips were soft just by looking at them. Some people tensed their lips up, like a pucker, instead of relaxing.  Parker had no inhibitions at kissing someone of the same sex at all.  She gave it her all.  And it made the mark extremely happy.

“When was someone going to tell me that the mark is a voyeur?” Nate asked as Sophie pulled away from the kiss that seemed to last an inordinate amount of time.

“Takes one to know one,” Hardison mumbled.

“We can hear you, Hardison,” Nate angrily pointed out.

“I know.”

Both Sophie and Parker got out of the building with themselves and the job intact, which was Sophie’s intention all along.  Distract the bastard until they could make their escape and regroup. Only the mark had other ideas, wanting them to stay and give him a show he’d never forget. 

“No more audibles,” Nate complained as the two arrived back at the van.

“That wasn’t an audible. That was thinking on our feet, no thanks to you,” Sophie shot back.

“Kissing Parker full on the lips was an audible, Soph,” Eliot said as he opened the door to the van.

“And it was nice. No tongue, but nice,” Parker told the three men as they all stood and looked at her.

“TMI,” Hardison proclaimed.

“Parker, not now,” Nate told the thief.

Eliot just snorted in agreement.

Sophie could see how pink Nate’s neck was.  Hardison wouldn’t look her in the face. Only Eliot seemed to be unfazed by the two calling an audible.

“Damn people makin’ out on a job. Don’t know what the world’s coming to, you know. One moment, you think one thing.  Then something happens.”

“Alec, jealousy does not become you,” Parker said as she slammed the van door shut. “Wait?  We made out more than once on a job.”


	6. Alec Hardison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I went there. It's not what you think. And we find out lots of things about the team in this chapter. Sophie's been a naughty girl. And so has the rest of the team.

Chapter Six--Alec Hardison

“You want me to do what?” Hardison cried out.

“If you want to learn how to kiss Parker properly, then you’re going to have to practice.”

Hardison had come to her to learn the right way to kiss Parker.  There had been several instances where the two had already kissed, but Hardison felt that there was something missing.  Hence the advice from Sophie.

“You’ve kissed a lot of people,” Hardison had started off the conversation saying.

Sophie almost took that statement the wrong way, but then remembered that he was speaking about her cons.  Or he better be.

“Not a lot of people, Hardison. It’s all in the anticipation, the actions beforehand.  I don’t have to kiss a mark to draw them in.  It’s what happens before, how you handle yourself.  Sure, there are times where you just want to grab the other person and dive in, but you might want to know if that will be well received.”

Sophie was thinking just that the morning before when she pulled Nate into the downstairs bathroom right outside their office. He didn’t have time to even tell her good morning when she slammed the door and crowded him up against it, hands pulling his head down to her level.  It had been a difficult night, tossing and turning after a con that had gone sideways.  She hadn’t wanted to even confront him the night before, but right at that moment, she just wanted to devour him. Then she would yell at him for screwing it all up.

“Grab someone? Did you say grab someone?  Because I don’t think Parker… Nah.  Not her style.”

“I’m not saying grab someone, I’m just saying that you really don’t know when the urge is going to overtake…”

Hardison put his hand up for her to stop what she was saying.

“Ok.  Got it.  Just, what’s next?”

“Do not, under any circumstances, pucker your mouth up like you’re going to kiss a fish. That is just a mood killer.  It’s all about setting the mood, then making sure your partner is satisfied.”

Sophie then thought about all the groans Nate had elicited from just her kiss that very morning. 

Hardison turned his head to look at her a bit strangely, then shook his head that yes, he did understand.

“Uh uh. Satisfied.” Hardison mumbled under his breath. She thought she also heard the word definitely, but shrugged it off.

“Show me how you hold her.”

“Oh, how I hold her?”

“Here,” Sophie said as she got closer to Hardison.

Placing his arms around her, she positioned his body to show him what she meant.

“Hardison, think of this as a play or a con.  You’re playing a part with me.”

Hardison relaxed into her, but not too much.

“Nate better not walk in,” Hardison joked as he looked down into her eyes.

“Good. Eye contact. Very good.  Hands play a big part in a kiss.”

“Tell that to Nate.  One hand handcuffed to a ship, the other holding your insides in to make sure you don’t bleed out.”

Hardison was still a bit bitter about Nate’s sacrifice. Hell, they all were at times.  What Sophie hadn’t realized was Hardison saw what she and Nate had done.  She thought that Hardison and Parker had already made it to the helicopter.

“Well, Nate’s a dumbass.”

Hardison laughed at her description. “Don’t tell me you didn’t like it though?”

“That’s neither here nor there. We’re talking about you and what you’re feeling. What do you feel when Parker kisses you?”

“Like I’ve gone to heaven.”

Uh oh, Sophie thought. He really does have it bad for the thief.

“Good, good.  Let’s work with that emotion.”

That kiss from Nate did feel like heaven and maybe a little bit of hell too since she knew he’d been shot and that he was being a dumbass by sacrificing himself for all of them.  There was a possibility that was going to be the only kiss they ever shared. It didn’t come to pass luckily and now she was getting absolutely shagged senseless by him almost nightly now that they had both figured out it was much more fun doing that then arguing.  Oh wait, they still argued.

“Close your eyes. What do you see?”

“Parker, smiling at me.  Excited to see me.”

“Bring your hands up to my face.”

Hardison’s hands were quite large compared to Nate’s, calluses apparent on his fingers from his constant use of computers. 

“Just go with what feels natural. There is no sequence you need to go through to kiss a girl.”

Sophie could smell the hint of orange on his breath in addition to whatever breath freshener he had used a few minutes before.  She was used to the smell of whisky. It was a bit refreshing to not smell it.

“Should I?” Hardison asked hesitantly.

“If you don’t feel comfortable…”

“Gotta know what I’m doing wrong.”

“How do you know you’re doing something wrong?”

“I just, I know.”

Hardison lightly touched his lips to hers, hesitant to put any more pressure on hers.  As slowly as she could, she increased the pressure just a bit just to get his reaction.  She felt but didn’t hear his gasp of surprise. 

He was good. He was more than good at this.  Why was he so worried?

“What’s going on?” Parker’s small voice sounded behind her.

Oh shit, Sophie thought. She hadn’t heard Parker enter the room. Just like the thief to show up at the worst possible moment.

“We were practicing,” Hardison very slowly said, ducking his head down so that he wouldn’t have to look Parker in the eyes.

“Practicing?” Nate said, now coming into view behind Parker.

“He was afraid that he wasn’t…”

“I wasn’t afraid. I just was wondering if I was…”

“It seems that it’s just a case of…”

“Well, you see, there was this one time…”

“Dammit, Hardison. I told you that you kissed just fine,” Eliot rumbled out, coming out of the shadows to cross the room to the kitchen.

Nate looked at Eliot, frowned, then looked back at her like he was trying to catch up with the whole scene.  Sophie’s eyes went wide when she figured out exactly what Eliot was saying. Had something happened between the two?

“Ok, but why ask Sophie?” Parker pointed out. “Does that mean I suck at it?”

“Oh, sweetheart. No. He was just having a bit of difficulty.”

“I was not having any difficulty,” Hardison glared at Sophie.

“It has nothing to do with your manhood, Hardison,” Eliot said as he brought out bowls to the dining table.

“Oh man, you had to go there,” Hardison complained back.

“I’m not the one slow playing it.”

Nate’s head swiveled back and forth like he was watching a tennis match.

“Wait? That means you’ve kissed every single person on this team, Soph” Nate finally said, like he’d just finished a puzzle in triumph.

“Really?”

“Huh.”

“You have?” Hardison finished.

“I guess I have.”

“Here, let me give you a gold star,” Eliot quipped back.

That’s when Nate realized that Sophie had actually kissed Eliot, his eyes narrowing at the hitter. 

“You’re just jealous that you haven’t kissed Eliot, Nate,” Parker commented as she made her way over to the kitchen.

Nate rolled his eyes at Parker’s comment. “No. Just like Hardison and I have never, you know.”

Deflect and change the subject was always Nate’s way of trying to draw the conversation off himself.

“You didn’t?” A lightbulb went off in Sophie’s head.  “I was only gone for a few months.”

“What?” Eliot asked.

“Share, because I am not getting what you’re saying,” Hardison said as he stood next to Eliot.

Nate raised an eyebrow, then hurriedly walked into the kitchen right behind Parker.

“You did what?” Eliot came out with as he watched Nate’s moves.

“What?” Hardison screeched at the same time.

“It wasn’t like we were having an orgy or anything,” Sophie could hear Parker say from the kitchen.

What on earth had happened while she was away?  It seemed like it had been years since that had happened.

“Are y’all grossed out as much as I am?” Hardison said as he rolled his eyes.

Heading for the stools, he plopped himself down on one of them. Eliot was still standing right where he was before, looking from one person to another.

“One kiss. Remember? The Carson case?” Nate said as he came back with a full tumbler of whisky in his hand.

“I thought that was Tara,” Eliot said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well. It was,” Nate answered, then took a large drink thinking that Sophie would focus on the drinking, not the fact that he just confessed that he had kissed Tara too.

“Both of them?” Hardison questioned.

“Yeah.  How did you think we got out of there so fast? I mean, Tara wasn’t there at the time. That was the next day.”

Sophie was completely lost about what Parker was saying 

“Nate did one of those switcharoo things with Tara,” Parker explained.

“Switcharoo things?” Eliot said as his arm cross became tighter.

“You know?  They were tailing him and Tara. So she pulled him into an alley and well, the rest is history.  I had eyes on them, remember?”

“No wonder the comms went down,” Hardison said as he started to tap out commands on the computer.

“That does not explain your kiss, Parker.”

“Oh, Nate wanted the mark to know I was off limits. It wasn’t like he used tongue or anything.”

Sophie felt like she’d walked into the Twilight Zone. Nate kissed Parker?  Or worse, Tara kissed Nate?  Nate just shrugged, taking another large swig of his drink.

“I got nothing,” he finally confessed.

“And when were you going to tell me about this?” Sophie asked.

“Listen, you were gone. We were on a job. End of story.  Not like you were on the job when you kissed Eliot.”

And there it was. He had seen the kiss between her and Eliot in Miami.

“That was a long time ago.”

“And you were drunk off your ass, Soph. You wanted me to see.”

“Nate, back off,” Eliot growled.

The tears had started to form in her eyes.  They’d had a rough few weeks and now he was throwing accusations in her face that she’d done something wrong a few years before. Now wasn’t that just peachy.

Another large gulp, Nate crossed to pour another glass full. 

“I’m not mad. Please.  I’m not mad,” Parker started to say.  “Now I’ve kissed everyone. It’s all just fun.  I’m not mad about Hardison, or anyone else.”  They all turned their heads to look at her. “Oh. That’s right.  Oops.”

“You kissed her,” Hardison pointedly looked at Eliot.

“It was, you know, a job thing. And yeah.”

“You kissed Tara?” Sophie inquired to Parker.

“She’s actually a good kisser,” Parker answered back.

Nate started to shake his head in agreement, but decided to cover it with another sip of drink instead.

“Wait? That means…,” Sophie commented back to Parker, high fiving her.

“Whoa, whoa, Sophie. Tara?” Hardison looked at her in astonishment.

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Obviously not,” Nate said as he put his drink down and now crossed his arms over his chest.

“Jesus, we are one fucked up mess,” Eliot said as his arms fell to his sides.  “I’m cooking.  Do not, under any circumstances, get into any more fights. I gotta finish the bread to have with the soup.”

Sophie sniffed the air, wondering if that was what Eliot had started before slipping out the door a few hours before.

“Bread?” Nate inquired.

“Yay, bread. And soup?” Parker asked the hitter.

“The kind you’ll actually eat.”

“More eating.  No kissing,” Hardison joked as he kept typing away.

Nate looked at her, inquiring if she wanted to talk away from the other three, without words.

“You’re still the best,” she mouthed.

“Better be.”


End file.
